


Micromanagement

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:08:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9819935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: It’s a rough morning already, and Seto’s not even feeling the caffeine yet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for furufish on twitter! based on the jworld kiridai cafe--idk if i captured it with complete accuracy but i hope you enjoy!

It’s a rough morning already, and Seto’s not even feeling the caffeine yet. Normally that leaves him going through the motions, fixing coffees and lattes and cortados and specialty drinks while his mind absorbs nothing for about an hour, but today he’s had no choice but to get a rude and sharp awakening, courtesy of Hanamiya shrieking at both Hara and Yamazaki at once.

Apparently there’s something wrong with the croissants (they look fine to Seto) and Hara isn’t taking the idea of being a waiter seriously (but he never does; there’s nothing unusual about today) or wearing his outfit quite correctly. It’s more likely that the croissants and outfit are actually fine and Hanamiya’s just in one of his moods, but couldn’t he be a bit quieter about it? Sometimes he’s just sulky and short with the customers, but today apparently isn’t one of those days.

“Kentarou! Where’s my mocha?”

Seto yawns. He’s going to need a nap after this shift stat. He sets up the espresso machine (for a brief moment he considers giving Hanamiya decaf, but then he’d just end up with a headache from not having any caffeine and he’d get even more cranky) and digs through the fridge for the chocolate syrup.

“I need it now!”

“Aren’t there customers?” says Seto.

He doesn’t feel bad at all for potentially driving away business and siccing Hanamiya on the new people; if they’re lucky he’ll just huff at Hara and Furuhashi for doing what he calls a shitty job and then go off to yell at Yamazaki and Matsumoto for not cooking fast enough or something. And then he’ll tell Seto his mocha’s not good enough, which whatever. He still drinks it every day.

Hanamiya likes to walk around barking orders like he’s in charge of the place, but the truth is he only does that because he’s not very good at any of it. He’s too rough with the espresso machine (not that Seto is fond of letting anyone else near it in the first place) and too impatient with the customers to be a good waiter and too slow in the kitchen to make food that keeps up with demand. Officially, he’s their supervisor, but in practice he’s a mediocre waiter who gets set off by Furuhashi’s and Hara’s antics.

And they can be pretty damn funny, like right now when Furuhashi’s leaning on the coffee bar and he sticks out his leg; Hanamiya sees but not in time to move back and trips. It almost seems to happen in graceful slow motion like an instant replay, Hanamiya’s body lurching forward and the tray in his hands moving faster toward the ground than the plates and cups on top of it—they land, with a loud crash that gets rid of any remaining sleepiness clinging to Seto’s brain, and Seto is very thankful in that moment that they’d gotten the plates (apparently truly) advertised as unbreakable. The mugs, on the other hand, are shattered into several pieces and there are shards of porcelain and tiny puddles of lukewarm cappuccino remnants at the foot of the bar, along with an incoherent Hanamiya.

He’s practically foaming at the mouth as he gets up, almost slipping in the dregs of a drink, pointing a shaking hand at Furuhashi.

“Whoops,” says Furuhashi. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Why you, you—!”

“Yamazaki, come here!” Seto yells. “Bring a dustpan!”

He hates doing damage control, but someone has to and it sure as hell isn’t going to be anyone else.

“Are you mad?” says Furuhashi.

“Nah,” says Hanamiya, and then, “Are you fucking serious, dumbass? Of course I’m mad! You tripped me, right in front of everyone, and broke the mugs! That’s coming out of your paycheck, by the way. And you, Kentarou!”

He whirls around toward Seto.

“You didn’t stop him!”

“I was making your mocha,” says Seto, and he passes it over the bar (in a to-go cup, he’s not stupid). “Here you go.”

Hanamiya doesn’t even thank him (asshole). By this point Yamazaki’s arrived, brush and dustpan in hand. He winces at the scene in front of him, and tries to keep out of Hanamiya’s field of vision. Seto very much doubts it matters right now, because Hanamiya’s back to yelling at Furuhashi, a string of curses and insults that by now Furuhashi’s learned to just deal with until Hanamiya’s done with his little tantrum.

At least they don’t have to worry about most of the staff being busy; many of the customers have reacted to the scene with the appropriate level of alarm and are quietly signaling Hara for the check. Seto sighs and turns back to the espresso machine; a quad americano would be really nice right about now.

Hanamiya finishes his tirade and starts yelling at Yamazaki for cleaning up Furuhashi’s mess and Furuhashi for not doing it himself, barely pausing to take a sip of his mocha (at least he doesn’t complain it’s not hot enough this time). A few new customers arrive, and Seto gets very busy with their to-go coffee orders and ignores the situation (the customers are glancing at it out of the corners of their eyes, but they still buy their drinks and don’t ask any questions). When they leave, Furuhashi is mopping, Yamazaki’s sent Hara to the kitchen to switch out for him, and Hanamiya’s leaning on the bar and glaring at the scene.

“Hey,” says Seto. “Why don’t you balance the books?”

It’ll get Hanamiya out of their hair right now, for at least a few minutes of peace and quiet, and hopefully a few new customers so that Yamazaki has something to do other than mooching extra coffees. Seto’s just settling in, his americano finally cool enough to drink, when he hears something whistling through the air. He almost drops his coffee when it hits his shoulder; it’s stiff and sharp and he’s lucky he’s wearing something with sleeves. He turns around; lying on the floor is the open record book, and standing in the kitchen door is a still-angry Hanamiya.


End file.
